Night in the Zinc Fortress

I scrambled down into the dry, metallic basin of the zinc watering can after the sun vanished. The cool galvanised walls curved all around me like a silver dome, blocking out every bit of night draft. In the corner lay a dry, folded seed packet that had fallen inside. I grabbed it with both gloved hands, dragged it flat against the smooth bottom, and stamped it down into a crisp sleeping mat. With my copper whistle resting safely beside my boots, I leaned my shoulders against the curved metal wall and looked straight up at the stars through the top opening. Solid shelter secured for the night!